


Kinks

by seor1324333



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 6 CHAPTERS IN AND I FINALLY DID THE THING, Blow Jobs, Fluff, M/M, Spanking, hello yes i would like to make a reservation FOR THE NINTH CIRCLE OF HELL, i belong in the trash, i did the thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-03-30 22:38:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3954454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seor1324333/pseuds/seor1324333
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’re making out in Oikawa’s room one day against the childish alien bed sheets of the high school boy when he pulls back without warning.</p><p>“Iwa-chan, are you kinky?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

They’re making out in Oikawa’s room one day against the childish alien bed sheets of the high school boy when he pulls back without warning. 

 

“Iwa-chan, are you kinky?”

 

Hajime looks up at his boyfriend, jaw slack and mind buzzing in a completely different way than it had been a moment ago.

 

“Um, what?”

 

Oikawa settles back on the heels of his feet, pulling back enough that Hajime can see his flushed face, the strands of hair plastered on his forehead.

 

“Like, are you a vanilla sex sort of person or are there things you enjoy, um, being done to you?”

 

“Oikawa, why -”

 

“Since we’re dating and all, I thought it’d be appropriate to talk about this, y’know? ‘Cuz it’s what people in relationships do? Communicate?”

 

“Sure, but maybe not while they’re making out?”

 

Oikawa laughs sheepishly at that, and a part of Hajime wants to just grab him and continue their make out session, but he also sees that the other boy is looking everywhere but at his own face, and Hajime sighs. He looks up at the ceiling, chewing his lip.

 

“I’ve… never really thought about it before.”

 

Oikawa tuts. “Iwa-chan, you’re a healthy adolescent male with a sexy boyfriend and an obviously depraved mind (he instinctively dodges the swipe coming towards his face), how could you not have thought about this before?”

 

Hajime rolls his eyes but refrains from retorting. “I guess I’ve been fine with what we’ve been doing so far.” More than fine, really.

 

“Aww that’s sweet Iwa-chan, but anything else? Anything you can think of on the spot.”

 

Hajime scratches his head. “I guess… ropes sound nice?” He trails off, suddenly very self-conscious. “Like tying up, um, people. Yeah.”

 

Oikawa breaks into a huge grin, mercifully not commenting on Hajime’s burning face. “My, my, Iwa-chan, that’s _hot_.”

 

“Shut up,” Hajime murmurs, and Oikawa’s still watching him with that blissed out smile and a faraway look in his eyes. “Oi – oi! Idiot, don’t imagine it!”

 

Oikawa waves his hand airily. “My hot stud of a boyfriend just confessed to wanting to tie me up, you should be glad I’m not pouncing on you right this moment.”

 

“I never said I wanted to tie _you_ up,” Hajime says under his breath, and it takes a moment for his boyfriend to register what he’s just heard before _he actually moans_.

 

“Iwachanthatissohoticouldpracticallycome-” Oikawa voice is muffled, but not enough, against the mattress.

 

When Hajime finally lets him up for air, he runs a hand through his hair.

 

“So, what about you? What kinks do you have?”

 

Oikawa stops bouncing on his knees. He’s avoiding eye contact, a finger tracing circles on the blobby alien heads underneath.

 

Hajime sighs. “Oikawa, you obviously wouldn’t have started this conversation if you didn’t have something you wanted to share.”

 

“I _know_ ,” he whines, “but if I told you, you’d think I was perverted and gross and then you’ll probably break up with me and avoid me at school and refuse to be my ace and then what am I going to do against Karasuno and Shira-”

 

“Oikawa, what the fuck, what kind of an asshole do you take me to be.”

 

“Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” And he takes in a deep breath, drama queen that he is, and buries his face in his hands.

 

“Iwa-chan, I want you to spank me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (i wanted to write an iwaoi bdsm fic but instead this ended up all conversation and no action and i don't know if i'd even know what i was doing)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think ill stop apologizing for writing this fic bc ive already accepted my rightful place in the trash bin

Tooru’s mind is ringing as he finally looks up, eyes searching the other boy for something, anything that would give him a hint on what to do or say next. Oh gods, what if his worries weren’t unfounded and Iwa-chan was freaked out right now, who tells their lifelong friend that they want to be spanked and by them no less, why isn’t Iwa-chan saying anything or laughing at him or punching him and complaining about how embarrassing he is, why couldn’t he have just kept his stupid damn mouth shut he could be kissing his boyfriend right now instead of fidgeting under this uncomfortable silence –

 

Hajime clears his throat, nearly startling Tooru out of his skin.

         

“Oikawa… do you mean right now?”

 

Tooru snorts, lets out the breath he hadn’t noticed he’d been holding. “My, Iwa-chan, how _impatient_.”

 

Hajime looks like he’s physically biting down a retort, but with years of habit ingrained in him, he still reaches over for a flick on Tooru’s forehead. It’s a familiar and affectionate gesture, and Tooru feels the beginnings of relief settle over him.

 

“I thought we were having a serious conversation here.”

 

“Mmm. So, what do you say, Iwa-chan? Do you need to go take a cold shower, or should I throw myself into the nearest body of water?”

 

“Why would you do that.” ~~~~

“ _Because_ , Iwa-chan, I just told you something sooo embarrassing.”

 

“That you want me to spank you?”

 

Tooru shrieks and shoves Hajime’s face into the pillow. “Don’t just say it like that!”

 

 “What the fuck Oikawa,” he splutters, “it’s exactly what you just said.”

 

“I knoooow, but it’s so much more embarrassing when you say it back to me!”

 

Hajime pushes himself back up, rubbing at his face.

 

“That makes no sense. Anyways, it’s just a kink. It’s nothing to drown yourself for.”

 

Tooru can still feel heat lingering in his cheeks, but he also feels a smile stubbornly stealing its way across his face. “So, you’re not freaked out? Or averse to the idea?”

 

Hajime scratches his head. “It’s a bit unexpected I guess? I mean, I’m not ready to, um, do it right now. I want to get used to the idea, maybe do some research? Just so we don’t screw things up.”

 

“That sounds very fair and mature of you, Iwa-chan.”

 

“Oikawa.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“… I think it was mature of you to have brought this up.”

 

Tooru blinks. Hajime’s gaze is unwavering, steady, and Tooru feels a sudden rush of affection for the boy in front of him. He leans forward, close enough so that the other boy looks a little cross-eyed keeping eye contact.

 

“Hajime, thank you.”

 

“What for?” But he’s cut off as Tooru presses against him, hands moving to cup his face, lips soft and gentle. Hajime ends up falling back on the pillow, as the sounds of quickened breaths and rustling sheets fill the sun-streaked room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why can't i write anything longer than 600 words lmao
> 
> also i hope i can make their relationship progress as naturally as possible and without seeming ooc but i also hope i can actually get down to the action someday


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao this chapter's longer than the first two combined

Hajime’s first course of action when he gets home that night is to pull up his laptop, furtively set his browser’s privacy settings, and settle himself in for a bout of, well, research. Yeah, research. That’s what it is.

 

(He’s glad for the darkness in his room, and the certain knowledge that his parents are already asleep when it’s this late, but that doesn’t stop him from jumping at every creak in the floorboards, or from occasionally wanting to dunk his head into a batch of ice-cold water.)

 

As he scrolls through an article detailing how to “Spice Up Your Sex Life With A Bit of Spanking” (Which guy hasn’t fantasized about spanking his woman! Click this next link on ways to spice up your sex life with romantic getaways!), his mind veers off to that afternoon, to the genuine worry behind Oikawa’s antics, and the way he’d actually seemed _relieved_ that Hajime hadn’t, what, been disgusted at him? Kicked him out and cut off all ties with him? Was that just an Oikawa insecurity thing, or was Hajime a person who came off as judging and severe? Or, well, okay, he could see how personal kinks could just be a hard topic to broach, although he himself had admitted to wanting to be tied up, and Oikawa had seemed more than a little welcome to the idea… which he would explore and deal with some other time, Hajime decides firmly. Right now he just wants to educate himself enough so that he doesn’t end up like a fish out of water the next time he and Oikawa talk.

 

There are articles and guides, stories and personal anecdotes, and at one point Hajime even braves it out and clicks on the images tab of his search engine, blushing furiously and imagining his conversation with Oikawa the next day (“Iwa-chan, searching up porn in your room? How _depraved._ ”) It’s 2 AM when his mind finally shuts down, his consciousness buzzing with reoccurring words and flashing images of butts, asses, pert globes... at one point he realizes that the dancing backside in front of him is only a stupid conjuration of his subconscious, and he shifts his body into a more comfortable position and trails off into a dreamless sleep. ~~~~

 

 

 

Things are not much better the next day.

 

He’s overslept, and it was his turn to make breakfast, so he throws a quick apology to his mom before grabbing the bento she’s made for him and hurrying out to Oikawa waiting for him by the front of his driveway.

 

They don’t talk about the day before; instead, the other boy starts chattering away about the book they’re studying in Japanese lit, how there was this one poem that reminded him of Iwa-chan and when he’d searched up the anime adaptation of that particular story the character had looked just like him. Oh shit, did Oikawa say Japanese lit? Wasn’t there a quiz today, some kind of assignment due for marking at the end of the class? Shit shit shit. He grabs his phone, sending out a quick SOS text to Hanamaki, who can only offer a word of condolence because his class is doing another book. Hajime ignores his text that suggestively asks what he was doing last night instead of studying, _Iwa-chan_.

 

As the school gates come into view, Oikawa skips ahead, and without meaning to, Hajime’s eyes trail down his friend’s body, settling on his ass. He observes with mild detachment just how fine they are in their ugly school uniform slacks - wait a moment. What the fuck. Hajime smacks his forehead. He’s obviously sleep deprived, and his, er, internet browsing last night was clearly messing with his mind. He keeps his eyes trained strictly on Oikawa’s face as he bids him goodbye for the morning.

 

He’s still distracted by third period, nodding off as snippets of dates and historical personages drift through one ear and merge with thoughts of Oikawa as a warlord charging through bloodied battlefields on a thundering steed, who he instantly knows, in that effortless certainty exclusive to dreams, to be himself. He feels the press of Oikawa’s ass on his back, and wonders if he could get a moan out of him if he reared up. Wait what. Holy shit Hajime. Hold your horses. And Oikawa laughs at his pun, shaking his head at just how terrible it is and mockingly chastising Iwa-chan for being so horny. Even in a setting of unreality, Hajime wants to throttle him. ~~~~

“Iwa-chan, you look more terrible than you did this morning, if that’s even possible,” Oikawa tells him as he waits for him outside his last period classroom.

 

“Shut up, Asskawa,” Hajime mutters, and then blanches, because, oh fuck, he just realized that that nickname is never going to have the same meaning to it again. Is Oikawa going to think he’s making fun of him over what he’d revealed yesterday? But when Hajime peers up at the other boy, he's only smiling that small smile of his, humming lightly as he maneuvers past the student body.

 

They change out of their uniforms in the club room, and after a warm-up of running and stretching, Hajime feels the fog in his mind considerably cleared. His spikes aren’t so bad either, although they never are when it’s Oikawa tossing to him.

 

“How was your test, by the way?” the setter asks, as they switch to serving and receiving practice. The third years invariably pair themselves off with their underclassmen, and Hajime nods to Kindaichi on the other side of the net.

 

“There’s a reason why I won’t be becoming a literature major anytime soon,” Hajime grumbles, head throbbing at the memory of what had turned out to be one hell of a test masked as a quiz. He didn’t think anyone had finished by the end of the period. ~~~~

“I’m sure you did well. You always do.”

 

He glances at Oikawa, who receives Kyotani’s erratic serve with perfect form. The setter is still smiling lightly, a completely different picture from the flustered and nervous Oikawa from the day before. Hajime steps up to bump back his own ball.

 

“Nice serve,” he calls out to Kindaichi, backing up to send over his own. At the edge of his vision, he sees Oikawa jump, hears the slam of palm against ball, and hears the second-year growl as he dives forward.

 

“Come on, Mad Dog-chan, don’t give me that look!” Oikawa’s voice lowers, taunting with a hint of a threat. “If you don’t put in a little more effort, I’m going to get _bored_ here.”

 

Hajime sighs, and resigns himself to watching as the setter is forced to dive towards the net to receive the next serve. The fabric of his shorts pulls against his backside as he jumps back up, spiking his own receive and landing gracefully as the ball whips past Kyotani’s head. Hajime barely hears the second-year’s curse as his mind drifts back to the articles he’d read last night, the photos of naked asses marked with red hand imprints, and allows himself to wonder, for the first time since he’d had _that_ talk with Oikawa, just what it would be like to have his boyfriend over his knees, pants pulled to the –

 

 _Wham._ Hajime's breath is knocked clean out of him as he reels backward onto the ground, the full force of a ball served slamming into his face. He hears the screech of shoes on gymnasium floor, sudden silence except for the ball bouncing away, and Hajime vaguely feels like he'd just received punishment from the universe for having dirty thoughts in broad daylight.

 

“Iwa-chan!” The silent spell is broken as various voices head his way.  

 

“Oh my gods, Iwaizumi-san, I’m so sorry!”

 

Hajime grunts as he blinks up at the gymnasium ceiling, his view blocked by a very concerned looking Oikawa, who, oh for fuck’s sake, should not be this good looking at this particular angle.

 

“Iwa-chan, are you alright? Are you still breathing? How many fingers am I holding up?”

 

“Iwaizumi-san, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for that to hit you in the face, are you okay?”

 

He sits up, rubbing slightly at his forehead, and waving off the gathering crowd.

 

“Iwa-chan, you’re not saying anything, did Kindaichi’s serve knock out what little brains you had left in you?”

 

Hajime looks up at his boyfriend, whose teasing voice is only slightly offset by the crease between his eyes.

 

“Oikawa…” he says slowly. The other boy leans forward.

 

“Yes, Iwa-chan?”

 

Hajime looks him dead on in the eyes.

 

“Please take the internet away from me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me at goldshitter.tumblr.com so we can scream about how game of thrones owes sansa stark big time


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hajime swallows, half-expecting his tongue to be too swollen to move. “Yeah. Right. Safewords. So I just thought we should come up with our own, together. Something that we wouldn’t normally say in one of those situations, something obvious so we know when to stop.”
> 
> Oikawa tilts his head, humming in thought. He perks up, raising a finger with a bright smile. 
> 
> “Oh! What about Ushiwaka or Tobio-chan?”
> 
> Hajime chokes, spluttering and gasping for breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was so smooth to write i think i started it like 3 hours ago bless
> 
> also, the idea of the ushiwaka and tobio safeword comes from this anon http://goldshitter.tumblr.com/post/119196328658/iwa-and-oikawas-safe-word-would-be-like-ushiwaka
> 
> who is iwabae on tumblr (forever grateful for such ingenuity tbh)

“Iwa-chan, it’s not like you to get distracted during practice,” Oikawa says as they head home an hour later, Hajime’s forehead still slightly glowing from the incident earlier. He grunts in response.

 

“Who says I was distracted?”

 

Oikawa _tsks_. “How else would you have gotten a ball to the face? That’s like clichéd manga trope for ‘oops I’ve got my head in the clouds now’s the perfect time to get knocked down.”

 

He’s not exactly wrong, but Hajime would rather eat a volleyball than acknowledge it when he knows very well which particular clouds his head had been treacherously drifting in.

 

“I didn’t get enough sleep last night,” he finally admits, opting for the truth, just not the whole truth. Oikawa sighs.

 

“Ah, well I’m glad to hear that, because I didn’t really either, so I was going to ask if I could take a nap over at your place tonight.”

 

“You have your own bed for that, you know.”

 

Oikawa glances at him, surprise mockingly etched on his face. “But Iwa-chan, how could you not jump at this golden opportunity to spend more time with your gorgeous boyfriend, when you’ve got him trapped in your bed no less!”

 

“Now you’re just making me out to sound like a pervert, Ass – Crappykawa.” ~~~~

“You mean you aren’t? Why else would you be checking me out throughout practice?”

 

Hajime trips over his own feet.

 

“W-what? I – no? Why would I do that?”

 

Oikawa laughs, throwing his hands over the back of his head. “I knew it! You just couldn’t resist, could you? If anything could make Iwaizumi Hajime lose his bearings during volleyball, it’d be this perfection of a human being here!”

 

This perfection of an ass, Hajime thinks vaguely, remembering the way it had curved so snugly and oh so deliciously in their volleyball shorts. He's taken half a step forward before he realizes he's just voiced his thoughts out loud.

 

Hajime stops dead in his tracks, because _holy fuck_ he's screwed. What sort of teasing hell had he just gotten himself into? Oikawa was vain enough that he’d never let him forget he’d admitted to _staring at his ass and getting knocked in the head with a volleyball because of it_.

 

“Iwa-chan, you’re so mean sometimes. I can take you calling me dumbass, or even Asskawa because you say them so affectionately, but if you’re going to start giving me actual rude nicknames I might just ignore you _all_ _night_.”

 

Hajime sighs, thanking the heavens for Oikawa’s rare moments of denseness. He quickens his strides so that he’s ahead of the other boy.

 

“Good. I’ll be able to catch up on sleep and actually get shit done for once.”

 

And of course Oikawa whines and skips up to him, sticking closer than he has all day, all the way up Hajime’s driveway and into his house.

 

 

 

 

They don’t end up napping that evening, but after joining Hajime’s parents for dinner (Oikawa heralding them with tales of school and his classmates and their teammates), they head up to Hajime’s room, where they settle on his floor and go through the book he’d been quizzed on earlier that day.

 

“I don’t know, Iwa-chan, the answers you remember putting all seem fine to me. I really don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

 

“You weren’t there, Oikawa. It was like,” Hajime waves his hand vaguely, “like going on court and realizing you’re about to face the Panasonic Panthers with no one else on your team. Yeah, that’s what it was like.”

 

Oikawa rolls his eyes. “Iwa-chan, even if a high school boy was forced to face a team of professional players, you wouldn’t be doing it alone.” He ruffles Hajime’s hair. “Like I said, don’t worry about it! Japanese lit is hard enough, your teacher’s hardly going to fail the whole class, and no matter what happens, you’ll know you studied hard for it and did the best you could.”

 

Hajime frowns. “But Oikawa, I didn’t study for it. I forgot I even had the test.”

 

“Anyway, it’s like what you said, you’re not going to be going into – wait, huh?”

 

Hajime looks down at his book.

 

“I was a bit, uh, preoccupied. With the things we were talking about that day? About our kinks?”

 

He hears the loud puff of Oikawa’s exhale.

 

“Iwa-chan… oh my gods I didn’t mean for my confession to get in the way of your studying I don’t want to be the cause of your failing ahhh what if you flunk all your classes and don’t get accepted into any universities and end up starving on the streets because I was too horny to keep my mouth shut -”

 

“Oikawa, what the fuck, what happened to comforting me about failing the test? Why am I going from having nothing to worry about to starving on the streets?”

 

Oikawa smiles lopsidedly and stops wringing his hands. A sudden spark of realization dawns on him.

 

“Iwa-chan,” he says slowly, “just how much did my confession get to you?”

 

“Huh?” Hajime looks away. “It didn’t. I just thought about it a bit, that’s all.”

 

Oikawa leans in closer, and he can practically _feel_ the smile tugging on the other boy’s lips.

 

“Y’know, I thought you’d seemed awfully distracted today, like a part of you was someplace far away.”

 

“I told you, I was tired, I barely slept last night,” Hajime grumbles.

 

“But you just admitted it wasn’t to study, so, what _exactly_ were you doing up all night alone in your room, hmm Iwa-chan?”

 

Hajime sighs, because like hell he’s going to rise up to that bait when he’s already so embarrassed. He takes a deep breath in, and looks straight into Oikawa’s eyes.

 

“I was doing research into your spanking kink.”

 

Now it’s Oikawa’s turn to turn red, and he laughs nervously.

 

“That’s – that’s really considerate of you, Iwa-chan.”

 

“I found out some _really_ interesting things about it,” Hajime continues, allowing a smirk to make its way onto his face. Oikawa blinks, and finds the distance between them suddenly reduced.

 

“Y-yeah?”

 

“Mhmm. I think I even learned,” he lowers himself to Oikawa’s ear, “some good _techniques_.”

 

Oikawa inhales slowly, barely suppressing a shiver. He raises a hand haltingly, but before he can rest it on Hajime’s back the boy pulls back.

 

“But before we get to that,” he says, taking in his boyfriend’s frozen, flushed look and filing it away in his memory, “I wanted to discuss with you something that came up a lot.”

 

Oikawa takes a moment to respond, breathing slowly in and out before his eyes refocus back on Hajime. “What is it?”

 

Hajime leans back on his hands. “There was a lot of mentions about safewords, which makes sense, because I mean there’s the word ‘stop’ but when you’re into pain you might want to be able to say stop as much as you want without really meaning it, and the safeword’ll let us communicate what we really want.”

 

“That makes sense.” Oikawa hesitates for a second. “But Iwa-chan, it’s not just the pain I’m into. I think I’m also into the idea of being punished?”

 

Hajime thinks his heart's stopped beating.

 

“Oh – oh?” he finally manages to say. “That’s, really, cool, uhhh -”

 

Oikawa’s waving his hands furiously in front of him. “But we can talk about that some other time! You were saying about safewords?”

 

Hajime swallows, half-expecting his tongue to be too swollen to move. “Yeah. Right. Safewords. So I just thought we should come up with our own, together. Something that we wouldn’t normally say in one of those situations, something obvious so we know when to stop.”

 

Oikawa tilts his head, humming in thought. He perks up, raising a finger with a bright smile.

 

“Oh! What about Ushiwaka or Tobio-chan?”

 

Hajime chokes, spluttering and gasping for breath.

 

“What – what the _fuck_ , Oikawa? I am _not_ going to utter some other guy’s name when we’re in bed together, _you dumbass_.”

 

Oikawa pouts. “But Iwa-chan, how likely are we to say either of their names in bed?”

 

Hajime wants to strangle him. “I don’t _care_ , Shittykawa, we are _not_ using either of those.”

 

Oikawa sighs. “Fiiine.” He’s quiet for a moment, before his eyes light up again. “What about ‘don’t mind, don’t mind’?”

 

He yelps as Hajime whacks him on the top of his head.

 

“ _Oikawa are you even taking this seriously_.”

 

“Iwa-chan! Mean!” He crosses his arms. “Fine, then if you won’t accept my contributions, let’s hear yours, huh?”

 

Hajime sits back, mirroring the other boy’s pose. They’re quiet for a few seconds before Hajime finally shrugs.

 

“I know it’s uncreative, but we could just go with the stoplights system. You know, green for keep going, yellow for slow it down, and red for a full stop.”

 

Oikawa rolls his eyes. “That’s so boring and typical of you, Iwa-chan. But if you’d rather stick with your own banality, then far be it for me to make you a better person.”

 

“I’d rather be boring than stupid, Crappykawa.”

 

Oikawa smiles at that, which instantly raises Hajime’s suspicions. He pokes at him.

 

“Oi, what are you thinking with that depraved mind of yours, Bakakawa.”

 

“I thought we’d established you were the one with the perverted thoughts, Iwa-chan? Ah! Kidding, just kidding! Jeez, I was only thinking of how you went from insecure to flustered to being downright _sexy_ , and then back to being flustered and so easily riled up, all in the span of one night. It’s actually quite endearing.”

 

Hajime ducks his head, restlessly rustling the pages of the book in front of him.

 

“Awww, Iwa-chan, are you blushing? It was only a compliment you know.”

 

“Nah.” He looks up. “I was only thinking of how much of a downright _mess_ you were just at the _mention_ of me learning various spanking techniques.”

 

Oikawa buries his face into his hands.

 

“You are a cruel, cruel man, Iwaizumi Hajime,” he says, voice muffled.

 

“Mhm. And it’s this cruel man you want to be spanked by.”

 

“Go _away_ , you brute! Why do I even hang out with you? You’re the _worst_.”

 

“You’re not just hanging out with me, you idiot, you’re dating me.”

 

Oikawa huffs, face still hidden. “Well I obviously wasn’t in the right mind if I consented to dating a terrible person like you.”

 

Hajime leans forward and blows gently on the other boy’s hands.

 

“If I remember correctly, it was _me_ who consented to dating _you_ , since you asked me out and all.”

 

Oikawa peeks an eye out through his fingers, breath hitching at how close they are now.

 

“Y-yeah? Well, I don’t remember that. Why would I ask you out, anyway? Makes no sense.”

 

Hajime grins. He pulls at his boyfriend’s hands, holding them down at their sides, and shifts forward even more so that their noses are brushing.

 

“Maybe I should help you remember, hm? Why someone like you,” and he leans down to brush his lips on parted lips, “would ask out someone,” on smooth cheek, “like," chin, "me,” and finally on lips again. 

 

Oikawa sighs blissfully, and rests his forehead on Hajime’s.

 

“I think I’m going to need more reminding, Iwa-chan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the "don't mind don't mind" idea comes from stabbign from tumblr 
> 
> if you're still sticking with me after 4 chapters of lack of plot and gratuitous use of those real life speech patterns that youre warned not to use in creative writing classes, thank you thank you and i hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as i've enjoyed writing it (writing this fic simultaneously got me out of a months-long writing dryspell and doesn't fail to cheer me up when i desperately need it)
> 
> hope you're all having a good, good day!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hajime looks back into Tooru’s steady gaze, eyebrow quirked in expectancy. He swallows again, and suddenly the pressure on his calf is no longer just imagined, but firmly, definitely, there. 
> 
> “Y-yeah. That sounds good.” 
> 
> Tooru draws back his leg, attention seemingly returned to his notes and the practice questions there.
> 
> “Oh, and I also thought we could give the spanking a try.”

Tooru’s been into spanking for as long as he can remember.

 

As a kid, he would come across mentions of physical punishment in his storybooks, always fleeting and never in detail, but his breath would hitch and send his heart clattering, a strange warmth settling over his stomach. He’d pore over the same lines again and again, etching them and the way they made him feel into his memory. His ears would always perk up whenever the word ‘punishment’ came into a conversation, but it was rarely what he was hoping for. He’d even asked Iwa-chan once whether he had ever been spanked, and the other boy had given him such a confused look (“Nah, my parents don’t believe in that”) that Tooru had been careful to never bring it up again.

 

In middle school, he discovered that sometimes, when his best friend was stomping towards him, sleeves rolled up and eyes promising retribution, he got that same, warm pooling feeling in his limbs that he’d experienced reading his storybooks.

 

 _I’m a pervert_ , he thought miserably, and had been so unresponsive, consumed by thoughts of shame and guilt that Iwa-chan had pulled back, worried he’d gone and actually hurt Tooru this time.

 

In high school, Tooru had gotten his own computer, and was not sure whether he should be thankful or not. His friends at school had taught him how to search things up on the internet discreetly, so that his parents would never discover his activities. He’d gone and searched up sex, always between a man and a woman, because that’s what his friends did. He pretended to be engrossed in conversations about how hot the women in pornos were, glancing at Hajime to gauge his reaction. The other boy usually sat back, arms crossed and frowning. If he ever caught Tooru’s stare, he’d roll his eyes and smirk, and the boy would perk up, feeling like he was sharing yet another inside joke with his best friend.

 

(He’d suspected for a while that he was impossibly attracted to Iwaizumi Hajime, life long friend and partner in every good thing that had ever happened to him. He should’ve known denial would only work for so long, and could’ve avoided a lot of angst had he accepted his feelings early on. It’d taken him a year and a half before he’d finally gotten the courage to confess, and only because he realized that the other boy was about to, and he desperately wanted to be the one to say the words first.)

 

It was a relief as well, because Tooru honestly didn’t think his libido could take much more of his longing fantasies and messy dreams (his heart barely could, in any case). And it appeared that Hajime felt along the same lines. Their hot touches and clumsy explorations, sneaking outside school grounds during lunch period and furtive gazes across dinner tables, were better than anything Tooru’s imagination could’ve conjured. For a while, he thought that his other _desires_ were a thing of the past, a perverse secret he would never have to tell anyone, ever. He’d make do with his internet browsing in the dead of night, but by morning he’d push all shameful thoughts to the back of his mind, grinning cheerfully at his boyfriend and bouncing over to begin his routine of how-do-I-act-in-order-to-best-rile-up-Iwa-chan-today.

 

Surprisingly, it was Hajime who first brought up the topic of sex. Tooru had been so tempted then to just tell him, to blurt out that there was a part of him that longed for pain and helpless begging, but he’d always been good at burying what he wanted in the face of his fears. Hearing what his boyfriend wanted to try together however had pushed his distress to the back of his mind, and his first orgasm at the hands of his best friend was better than anything he had experienced on his own.

 

(He still dreamt that night, of hands coming down on his ass, phantom pain blossoming across his cheeks as he moaned and writhed, his mind’s voice begging for more, more, _more_.)

 

But just like with all of his insecurities, Tooru became surer and more comfortable with himself as time went on. He’d started off with porn magazines with BDSM themes, tossing them off to Hajime along with other, more vanilla articles, with the pretense that they’d come with recommendations from classmates.

 

“Oi, Trashykawa, stop dumping all your porn on me,” his boyfriend would grouse, but that was all. No trace of disgust, or revulsion, at the sadomasochistic photographs, no horror in eyes when he looked back up. Tooru could’ve even sworn, even though it had probably just been his wishful thinking, that Hajime’s attention had rather _lingered_ on the picture of the man bent over, ass poised under a wooden paddle.

 

It’d taken him only a week this time to dredge up his courage, once he’d decided that he was going to tell Hajime about his kink. He’d thought of all the worst outcomes, and the things they involved were so outlandish and unlikely that he knew (hoped) they would never, ever come true, not in this lifetime or any other. If they had kept their friendship over Tooru’s initial confession (“Iwa-chan, I think I’m in love with you”), and a romantic relationship had even blossomed out of it, then nothing could ever get in the way of their lifelong bond, right?

 

“Hello-o, Earth to Oikawa.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

Tooru blinks, his mind wavering between the haze of his thoughts to the warmth of his classroom, sun rays streaking the floor from open windows. Hajime’s watching him, pen poised between fingers, and Tooru has a vague feeling he’d been observing him for some time now. He clears his throat.

 

“Were you saying something, Iwa-chan?”

 

The other boy snorts.

 

“Would it matter, considering you were off along some train of thought I probably don’t want to know about.”

 

Tooru hums, smile playing on his lips. Hajime’s eyes flutter briefly down, resting on them for a moment before he pulls his gaze back up. Tooru’s grin widens into a smirk.

 

“You know, Iwa-chan,” he says softly, voice low, “it being a Friday and all, I thought you could come over after practice today, hmm? We’ll have the house all to ourselves, and I even made some… preparations. We can do whatever it is we want to do, for as _long_ as we want to.”

 

Hajime visibly swallows, and his eyes dart around behind Tooru, as if checking to make sure no one else has their attention on them. They’re in the corner of Tooru’s classroom, textbooks spread on the desk between them, and for the most part people are engaged in grouped off conversations, or are paired off in study groups like the two of them. It’s one of the perks of eating lunch in a third year, college prep class, where privacy can be expected so long as not too much attention is drawn.  

 

Hajime looks back into Tooru’s steady gaze, eyebrow quirked in expectancy. He swallows again, and suddenly the pressure on his calf is no longer just imagined, but firmly, definitely, there.

 

“Y-yeah. That sounds good.”

 

Tooru draws back his leg, attention seemingly returned to his notes and the practice questions there.

 

“Oh, and I also thought we could give the spanking a try.”

 

Hajime jerks, dropping his pen and nearly elbowing his empty bento off the desk. A few heads turn towards their corner, but he is absolutely, definitely not focusing on them right now.

 

“Y-yeah? You sure? You ready?” _Am I ready?_

Tooru rolls his eyes. “Iwa-chan, I’ve probably been ready since I was ten years old, to be honest. But,” he hesitates, “I know I sprung this on you pretty suddenly, and you said you did research, but I know it’s all pretty unexpected and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or force you to do anything you don’t want to.”

 

Hajime runs a hand through his hair. “That’s… that’s not what it is. I’m not weirded out or anything, I just, it seems like something important to you? And I don’t want to mess up and hurt you in any way?”

 

“Iwa-chan, I like spanking, I _like_ being hurt.”

 

“I _mean_ , hurt you in a way that I’m not supposed to. I don’t want to ruin things.”

 

Tooru reaches for his hands then, and Hajime flushes, hoping other people are too engrossed in their own activities to notice the two boys in the corner of the room.

 

“Hajime,” he says softly, “it is a scientifically proven _fact_ that you are incapable of ruining our relationship, because we are just that well bonded, our friendship forged through years of trial and sweat and bloodshed.” He ignores his boyfriend’s eye rolling. “But apart from that, that’s what our safewords are for, right? So I can tell you when to stop and when to keep going. It’ll all be good, and I’ll finally be able to satisfy my long time fantasies with the person I trust most in this world, so you really have nothing to worry about, okay?”

 

Hajimes breathes in slowly, finally nodding.

 

“Good.” Tooru lets go of his hands then, and sits back, drawing his notes towards him once more. “Now I’m going to finish up this pesky assignment for my sadistic Algeo teacher, and you finish up all your homework, so we can have tonight free and aaall to ourselves.”

 

Tooru’s already started back on his problem sets, but he can still feel his boyfriend’s eyes on him. Without looking up, he hums, “What is it, Iwa-chan?”

 

The other boy doesn’t respond at first, and only the sound of pen scratching on paper fills the space between them. Tooru finally looks up, but he’s met with averted eyes.

 

“… Since when did you become so grown up, Oikawa?”

 

He opens his mouth to answer, even though he’s unsure of what he’s about to say, and just then the bell rings shrilly, signaling the end of their break and a reprieve for both boys.  

 

They get up from their seats, packing books and cutlery into their bags. Tooru pats Hajime on the back, breaking their momentary silence.

 

“I’ll see you at practice, okay? And Iwa-chan?”

 

Hajime pauses from heading out the door.

 

“What is it?”

 

Tooru grins. “I can’t _wait_ for tonight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was supposed to be THE chapter, i was planning for IT to happen, but because i'm the sort of writer whose writing tends to take a life of its own once she starts actually putting pen to paper (fingers to keyboard), this derailed into more inner dialogue and conversations (AGAIN, if i may add...)
> 
> but hey, it's only 10:30 here so i might as well keep writing


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soo, tw: spanking, blowjobs (yeah i dont know where that came from, i was definitely not planning that lol)
> 
> aka what i even started this fic for so i hope you like what you see?

They’ve barely made it through Oikawa’s door before they drop their bags, hands reaching for the other, kicking off shoes with abandon and pressing back into the hallway.

 

 _Sorry for the intrusion_ , Hajime thinks out of instinct, and then, more lewdly, _sorry I’m about to screw your son’s brains out._

They pause in their kissing to make their way up the stairs, Oikawa’s grip tight in Hajime’s hold. He pulls him onto the landing, stepping close and letting go of his hand so he can wrap his arms around Hajime’s neck.

 

“Oikawa,” he whispers, and pauses, letting the other boy lick his bottom tongue and tug on it with his own. “Oikawa, you sure we’ll be alone?”

 

“Hmm? Of course. In fact,” he pulls back, eyebrows wriggling, “I’ve got the house all to myself this whole weekend, so if you’re not too busy…”

 

Hajime rolls his eyes, ignoring the nagging in the back of his mind that would surely ruin the mood if given a voice. Instead, he leans back towards the other boy, blowing a breath against his nose. ~~~~

“Oh, I plan on being very busy with the things I have in mind for us, Tooru.”

 

Oikawa grins, tilting his head down so he can look up at Hajime through fluttering eyelashes. Fuck, he has long lashes, Hajime thinks, probably not for the first time. Fuck, he’s pretty.   ~~~~

“Maybe instead of just waiting for the weekend, we can get started on your plans right now?” Oikawa guides him past open doorways until his back’s pressed against his bedroom door, kicking back to swing it open.

 

“I like the sound of that,” Hajime whispers, and then his hands are wandering down, down, and Oikawa’s both pulling at him so they can fall back on the bed together, and pushing against him with hot lips and deft fingers.

 

 

 

 

The room’s starting to get hot, or maybe it’s just Hajime, his breaths coming fast and heavy, mind wiped of all thought but that of Oikawa’s mouth on his, trailing kisses down to his collarbone, his navel, further down so that Hajime squeezes his eyes shut to steel himself for what comes next. Their clothes have long since been discarded, draped messily over the foot of Oikawa’s bed, or on the floor in heaps. He threads his fingers through the other boy’s hair, and Oikawa pauses, lifting his head to gaze up at his boyfriend.

 

“Hajime, you okay?”

 

He nods, not really trusting himself to speak at the moment. He opens one eye to see Oikawa still staring at him, before slowly lowering himself back down and flicking his tongue… there.

 

Hajime shudders.

 

Oikawa runs his tongue up and down Hajime’s shaft, teasing it with more flicks and swirls so that it isn’t long before Hajime’s a writhing mess. The other boy’s trailing his fingers across Hajime’s thighs, sending additional shivers throughout his body. He starts tracing circles at the back of the other boy’s leg, where it’s always been sensitive, in time with his licks, and Hajime lets out a sound that sets his face flaming even more than it has been all this time.

 

“Oi – Oikawa. Tooru.”

 

“Hmm?” And he chooses then to take Hajime into his mouth, head bobbing slightly as he blinks innocently up at his boyfriend. Hajime wants to laugh at the sight, because _gods_ he’s more turned on now, if that’s even possible.

 

“Is something wrong?” Oikawa says, around a mouthful of cock, and Hajime does laugh then. Oikawa smiles too, and without waiting for a response, _sucks_ , drawing a half moan, half yelp from the other boy.

 

Hajime throws his head back on the pillow, losing himself to the heat and wetness, chest heaving as the pressure in his stomach builds up and up, no longer sure if the sounds filling the room are coming from him or Oikawa, and no longer caring. He thinks he’s gasping the other boy’s name, sure that he’s about to come any second now, fuck, _fuck_ , and then Oikawa _hums_ , the vibrations pitching him over the edge, and Hajime rears up, eyes squeezed shut and mind riding the waves of pleasure that are coursing through his body. Oh gods, he thinks, hands squeezing and grasping at sheets, at his own sides, anything he can grab onto to keep himself from floating away.

 

“Oh gods,” he gasps aloud, when his body’s finally settled, and when he opens his eyes, there’s only Oikawa’s ceiling, and Oikawa’s flushed face hovering over him, lips swollen, pupils black and blown.

 

“You called?” Oikawa quips, but the familiar cockiness in his voice is absent, replaced only by heavy breathing. Hajime reaches a hand up to push back the sweat-laden locks on the other boy’s forehead, and Oikawa turns his head to nuzzle into the touch.  

 

“Was that good, Iwa-chan?” he asks, voice muffled. Hajime pulls him down suddenly, eliciting a surprised yelp, and tucks his head under his chin. He runs a hand through the soft hair.

 

“Yeah, yeah it was. It really was.”

 

They stay like that for a quiet moment, and when Hajime thinks his breathing’s finally slowed down, he pushes lightly at the other boy, so that they’re both sitting up. He gestures down at Oikawa.

 

“Let me – let me take care of that.”

 

“Hmm?” He looks down. “Oh. Thanks, Iwa-chan. But do you think we could, um, try something out? The thing I brought up earlier?”

 

Hajime swallows, his mouth suddenly dry, but he steels himself. He’s been expecting this, preparing for it even, and Oikawa probably has been longer than he has.

 

“Y-yeah, sounds good.” Oikawa’s not looking at him though, and he suddenly feels very, very awkward, and not just because they’re both naked, sitting against bed sheets rumpled from their earlier session.

 

“So,” he finally says, breaking their uncomfortable silence, “how do you wanna do this?”

 

“I could get on your lap?”

 

“Okay.”

 

There’s a momentary shuffling, limbs awkwardly shifting as Hajime moves to the edge of the bed and Oikawa positions himself, long legs draping, across his thighs. He lifts his hands and lowers them, as if unsure what to do with them.

 

“You could try pressing them on the floor to help balance yourself?”

 

“Okay.”

 

Hajime’s not really sure what to do next, and he really wishes there wasn’t this sudden strained silence between them.

 

“Iwa-chan?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“You really are the most awkward boyfriend a guy can have, aren’t you?”

 

Hajime rolls his eyes at that, and lets himself rest a hand over his boyfriend, running it up and down his back.

 

“Like you can be talking, _Ass_ kawa.”

 

Oikawa snickers and twists his head to look back at the other boy.

 

“Hey, Iwa-chan, I get it now. ‘Cause it has to do with spanking right? Who would’ve thought your nickname would have so much meaning when you first came up with it?”

 

“Definitely not this,” Hajime says, eyebrow quirked in amusement.

Oikawa hums. “And who would’ve thought our friendship would’ve lasted over a decade to end up here, with me sucking you off and over your knees afterwards?”

 

“Er, can we save the nostalgic reminiscing for later? Thinking about myself as the pure, innocent kid I was is really killing the mood.”

 

Oikawa grins at him. “I only started talking because you’d frozen up, Iwa-chan. I just thought I’d give you some courage!”

 

Hajime scoffs and finally runs his hand over his boyfriend’s ass, eliciting a small shiver. “I really don’t think you’re in a position to be teasing me, Oikawa.”

 

He rolls his eyes. “Iwa-chan, if there’s ever going to be a time when I’d be teasing you, it would be right now, if only to get you to _just spank me already_.”

 

Hajime squeezes his ass at that, kneading a few times on the other cheek like he’d read in all those articles. Oikawa’s turned his head back forward now, and he can feel his chest rising and falling against his leg.

 

Hajime takes a breath in himself, raising his hand slightly and bringing it down with a small _smack_.

 

He holds his breath for the few seconds of silence afterwards, before Oikawa’s turning to look back at him, eyebrow raised.

 

“Seriously Hajime? That all you got?”

 

“Shut _up_ , Shittykawa.” He raises his hand again, a bit higher this time, and brings it down. Oikawa hums.

 

Hajime continues like that, each time daring to start a bit higher and hit a bit harder, trying to space out his slaps and alternate between both sides. After a dozen, Oikawa wriggles a bit, and Hajime pauses.

 

“Oikawa?”

 

“It tickles, Iwa-chan.”

 

He rolls his eyes.

 

“Stoplight?”

 

“Hmm… green, with a touch of green, and a side of _Iwa-chan aren’t you the ace of Aoba Johsai what happened to all that arm strength you’ve been training for years_.”

 

Hajime huffs, rising to the bait in spite of himself and sending a slap with more force than before. Oikawa tilts his head.

 

“Better, but if it helps, you can imagine my ass as a volleyball that you have to spike to get to match point.”

 

“Oikawa – what, can you, just, can you just lie there you’re gonna ruin the mood.”

 

He can practically feel the other boy rolling his eyes.

 

“ _Yes_ , Iwa-chan. I’ll be good.”

 

The room’s silent again except for the sound of smacks, Hajime’s other hand pressing gently on Oikawa’s back, more for the sake of anchoring himself than to keep Oikawa down. Oikawa’s ass has taken on a rosy tinge by now, and the he's silent, breathing slowly and distinctly. When Hajime’s hand descends and he sees the other boy’s fingers twitch on the floor, he stops again.

 

“Oikawa, stoplight?”

 

“Green, Iwa-chan, green.”

 

So he continues, pressing more force behind his slaps, landing them on the same area consecutively before moving to the other side. He’s covered the span of his hand and more, aiming from the tops of each cheek to the curve where they meet Oikawa’s thighs. He sends another slap there, and Oikawa jerks.

 

“Oi-”

 

“Green, Hajime.”

 

He smacks him again, and Oikawa shudders, arching his back to raise his ass into Hajime’s next strike.

 

“ _Ah_ …”

 

Hajime sends three quick smacks in succession, feeling the heat against his palm. Oikawa wriggles, his hand clenching open and closed.

 

“Before you ask, Iwa-chan, green. I’ll tell you when to stop, okay?”

 

He’s answered with another volley of spanks, and he groans, pressing his forehead into Hajime’s thigh. He can feel the other boy’s cock pressing against the inside of his leg, and feels his own stirring, already half hard.  

 

 _Slap. Slap._ A whimper. _Slap. Slap. Slap._

“Oh gods,” he moans, back stretching and writhing. “Fuck, Hajime, fuck.”

 

He jumps at the next blow, hands splayed against the floor, hair sticking to the back of his neck with sweat. Hajime jerks back, slightly alarmed.

 

“Oh _gods,_ Hajime, please, please, _green_ , fucking _green_.”

 

Hajime’s having a hard time breathing himself, and his palm is stinging slightly as he brings it back down, over and over, his cock twitching at every gasp and cry. He wants to touch Oikawa, rub his hands over his red ass, part them at the cheeks and circle them _there_ , bring him up to trap his mouth in his –

 

But he also has this image of Oikawa coming right then and there, over his lap and with Hajime’s hands nowhere near his cock, and he suddenly wants nothing more than to bring his vision to reality. So he lays into his blows, and Oikawa’s head jerks up, crying at the sudden force and rubbing his crotch on Hajime’s leg. He’s gripping the other boy’s ankle now, hard, and at the next blow he groans, hips twitching, breaths coming out in pants.

 

“Hajime – holy – please, ah, AH! Please, please, _please_ -”

 

And then he’s coming, his whole body convulsing against Hajime, fingers digging painfully into his calf. Hajime runs smooth circles over his back, whispering soothing noises and gentle nonsense against silent screaming. He trails light fingers over the redness of Oikawa’s ass, and he moans again, head thrown back as he rides out the last of his orgasm. He slumps back down over Hajime’s legs, panting heavily as his arms flop uselessly back onto the ground.

 

“Shh, shh,” Hajime whispers, running a hand through Oikawa’s hair, trailing down his neck, along the path of his spine. The other boy shivers as Hajime places his hands back on his ass, rubbing at them lightly. “You okay?”

 

“Mhm,” Oikawa says, voice muffled.

 

“Do you, uh, wanna get up?”

 

“Nope, I’m good here.”

 

Hajime laughs, breathless. The heat on Oikawa’s buttocks has yet to cool down, and he strokes them soothingly, gently.

 

“You sure? It doesn’t look like a very comfortable position.”

 

Oikawa is silent for a moment, before pushing himself up with his arms and squirming on Hajime’s lap.

 

“Help me up, will you?”

 

Hajime helps him off, holding onto his hands as Oikawa finally gets on his feet, looking down at him. His face is coated in sweat, his stomach messy with the aftermaths of his orgasm, and Hajime is tired, so tired, but he wants to run his hands all over the other boy’s body, trail kisses along every inch and crevice.

 

“Hajime.”

 

He looks back up.

 

“Yeah? You okay?”

 

Oikawa leans down, kissing him slowly, lazily.

 

“I take back what I said. You are far from the most awkward boyfriend ever.”

 

Hajime snorts.

 

“Shut up, Asskawa. Can you at least act like someone who’s just been spanked?”

 

Oikawa looks down, the meek gesture offset by the smirk on his lips.

 

“Yes, Iwa-chan. Thank you for _punishing_ me, Iwa-chan.”

 

Hajime rolls his eyes, and barely suppresses a shiver.

 

“Come here,” he says, scooting back onto the other side of the bed. Oikawa hesitates, and kneels onto the mattress, lowering himself to lie down beside him.

 

“Do you want to grab something for your ass? I brought lotion.”

 

“Nah. Maybe if it gets unbearable.”

 

They’re quiet for a moment, and Hajime can’t help the yawn that escapes his lips.

 

“Do you want to take a nap?” Oikawa asks, his own eyes fluttering to stay open. Hajime nods. He drapes an arm over Oikawa’s shoulder, pulling him in closer. Oikawa hooks a leg over his.

 

“… Was it good, Oikawa?”

 

“Was what good, Iwa-chan?”

 

He rolls his eyes.

 

“What we just did. After what you did for me. Was that what you wanted?”

 

He hears a yawn, and Oikawa nuzzles further against his neck, voice already laced with sleep.

 

“Yeah Hajime, I liked it. It was better than anything I could’ve dreamed of.”

 

He lets his eyes fall close then, his mind already turning towards the haze of floating warmth.

 

“Iwa-chan, you didn’t _really_ imagine my ass as a volleyball, did you?”

 

Hajime groans.

 

"'Cause then you'd really be the ace - of my ass."

 

He buries his head under the pillow, blocking out all traces of Oikawa's cackling laughter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my gods, i, i DID IT????
> 
> I'M SORRY TO EVERYONE WHO EVER RAISED ME AND HAD HOPES FOR ME, BUT I ALSO HOPE I DONT COME OFF AS THE SMUT WRITING VIRGIN I REALLY AM IN THIS CHAPTER
> 
> but ofc the chapter with the sexy stuff is my longest lmao


End file.
